Those Kids
by MagicJustHappens
Summary: When Stan Pines agreed to take care of his six-year old great niece and nephew for the summer, he had no idea what he was getting into. He can only hope that he can keep his secrets...well, secret while trying to take care of these rascals. (Please R/R!)
1. Welcome to Gravity Falls

_Hello, hello! I haven't been around for a while but I'm ready to start anew. Yes, I am obsessed with Gravity Falls now. Why? Take a look at the show and you'll see!_

 _Anyway, decided to write a little something up which may or may not turn into a series depending on the response._

 _PLEASE tell me what you guys think! I'm open to any constructive criticism. (Also if ya wanna fan-talk to me, I LOVE to do that, so yeh ^^)_

* * *

When Stanford Pines had agreed to take his six year-old great niece and nephew back to the Mystery Shack with him for a few weeks (under a small bribe from their parents, of course), he had had no idea just what he was getting into.

As far as he had been concerned, while he had never had any kids of his own, he had watched enough television to get the basic gist of things. Although, something told him that the sparkly, perfect children that dashed across his screen always laughing and playing were not quite the best interpretation, but it was all he had to work off of. Besides, how hard could it possibly be to keep these guys happy? They were a couple of six year-olds, for crying out loud.

But now, as he stood staring all the way down at the two pairs of unblinking eyes gawking silently back up at him, he was starting to second guess himself. I mean, they weren't even _moving._ They just stood, necks craned way back to get a spectacle of their Great Uncle.

"Uh..."Gosh, had they been staring at the back of his neck like this the whole way here? "Ok, kids...welcome to the Mystery Shack! Just call me your Grunkle Stan."

No response.

"You guys hungry? Think I've got some pie left over in the fridge."

Nothing.

He groaned, rubbing a hand slowly over his face, "C'mon, guys, give me _something."_

Mabel, who had been scraping the glitter off of the front of the eyesore of a sweater she had, finally piped up, "I like plastic dinosaurs."

Well, it was better than nothing. He picked up their bags and headed up the stairs, "Let's get you guys unpacked." They obediantly followed him to the loft and stared around in awe at the spacious room.

The other kid, who he had been informed was named Dipper (that couldn't possibly be his real name, right?) carefully crawled up onto his bed and watched Stan uncermoniously drop all their stuff onto the floor, "Are we gonna sleep here?" He tipped his head to a side curiously.

"Whaddya think, knucklehead?" Stan waved his hand at the baggage, answering his question.

Mabel stared hopefully, "Can we jump on the beds?"

"Yeah, whatever; if you need me, I'll be downstairs." Gosh, he was too old to be going up and down stairs like this. He left them to do who-knows-what and sat down on his favorite chair to watch some television.

The shop wasn't open today on account of him having to drive those two all the way back here, and he figured opening in the middle of the day would be a waste of time. Might as well just waste the day on mindless nothing.

After a full ten minutes of watching he had honestly forgotten that there were kids in the house, and so found himself jumping slightly when they appeared in the doorway, both beaming.

"Yeesh, kids; give a guy a little warning next time." He studied the cheerful look on their faces with some suspicion, "What?"

"Could we please have some pie?" Mabel asked simply, eyes bright. Her twin nodded with a small smile.

He grunted and stood, shaking his head, "Alright, fine." Walking into the kitchen, he fished out the remainder of the dessert he'd bought from the diner a few days ago and set it onto the table with two forks, "Just don't fight over it, okay?"

Stan leaned his back against the fridge and watched with some concern as they sloppily scarfed it down in record time, making sure that half of it went anywhere but into their own mouths. Once finished, they busily set to work trying to clean up what they had missed.

"Thank you!" Mable chirped, trying to wipe the sticky mess off of her face.

Good grief, was every meal going to look like this? He picked up the tray and threw it into the sink, "Uh, no problem. How's about you guys go wash up and we'll find something 'fun' to do today." Not like he had any idea what that would be, but it seemed to excite them as they practically tripped over one another to dash off to the bathroom.

Stepping into the business section of his house, he picked up a few signs he had been meaning to put up and collected the nails needed while he listened to the sounds of water splashing. He drummed his fingers on the wall for a moment, waiting, until...

"GRUNKLE STAAAN!"

Wow, that girl could really yell. He dropped what he was holding and ran as fast as his legs would permit to the bathroom, "What the heck's the matter?"

Mable lifted her arm and pointed an accusing finger at her brother, "He's using your whipped cream!"

Dipper, perched on the edge of the bath tub, looked guiltily up at his Great Uncle, shaving cream dripping off of his face and onto the floor to mingle with all of the spilled water.

"Kid, I told ya to clean up, not mess with my stuff!" He snatched up a wad of toilet paper and attempted to wipe the foam off of the brunette's chin and mouth without being as rough as he felt like he wanted to be.

A few quiet 'sorry's' were mumbled as Dipper did his best to sit still and not be knocked over by the force, shooting Mable a look whenever he could get the chance.

As soon as Stan had finished, the older man stood and walked out of the bathroom with a sigh that could have been much quieter, "Alright, kiddos, let's head out." He heard the two scamper after him as he once again lifted his supplies and stepped out the door.

"Where are we going?" Mable ran a bit ahead of him, her plastic pink shoes popping out as they shone in the sunlight.

"Welp, we're gonna, uh..." He rolled his eyes up, contemplating how he could make a walk through the woods sound fun to them, "Uh...Ex-explore the forest, yeah, 'cause I'm pretty sure that there might be buried treasure or something in there somewhere."

This got Dipper's attention, "Really?"

"Geez, I don't know. Just...follow me and see if you guys spot something." He pushed one of the signs that had been in his arms against a tree of his choice and began to nail it into place. He moved from tree to tree, barely keeping an eye on the twins. As long as he spotted them occasionally in his peripheral vision, he figured they were fine.

"Hey, Grunkle Stan?"

He looked down in some surprise at Dipper. The kid hadn't really addressed him yet, or talked much...at all. Was he shy, or did he just hate being here? He couldn't really tell, but he hoped it was the first one, "Uh-huh?"

The boy pulled gently at his pant leg, "Why're you wearing all this in the summer? Aren't you hot?"

Stan grunted. His great nephew wasn't the only one who had expressed their concern on this topic, "Because I'm weird." There; simple answer. He pounded another advertisement into the wood and moved on.

"Oh."

Mabel, who had found a slight grassy incline, rolled past them, arms thrown in the air as she squealed her delight, "Dipper!" She stood when she reached the bottom and rushed back up, "You gotta come try it!"

Her brother merely watched with interest as she repeated the process, but didn't move to join her. Instead, he turned back to his old relative, seeming more comfortable speaking to him rather suddenly, "Can I help?"

"Um..." _No, does this look like a job for two people to you? That's what I thought,_ "Sure, just...look for a good tree to hang a sign on, I guess." Stan refocused on his job as Dipper darted away, wondering why any kid ever born would want to help with such a dull task.

A few minutes later the kid returned, looking pleased with himself, "I found the perfect tree."

"Mm-hm?" He put the remaining nails between his teeth, not bothering to glance over.

"It's made of metal."

 _Wait, what?_ He almost laughed, but took the nails out of his mouth first, "Heh, I hate to tell ya this, sport, but trees aren't made of metal."

"But this one was!"

He rolled his eyes and turned his back away.

"It makes a weird noise when you hit it an' I saw something sticking out of it, an'-"

"Kid, are you gonna keep talking about this tree until I come check it out?" He raised an eyebrow at his nephew and regarded the very serious and determined expression that was being given to him. He took a breath, "Where is it?"

Dipper pointed and walked in that direction, watching with a small smile as he was followed until he stepped up to the pine tree in question, "Right here, see?" He knocked his small fist against the bark, causing a resounding metallic boom.

Well, that was certainly odd. Stanford pushed him away and did the same, listening to the strange noise, "...What did you see sticking out of it?" The child reached up as far as his arm would go and scraped at a slight paneled rise in the wood.

With a quick tug, Stan pried it open, revealing a compartment inside of the fake tree holding a box covered in switches and buttons. Ok, this was starting to look familiar. He played with the switches on the top, flicking each one of them the opposite way.

Both startled when a sharp hiss sounded behind them; a section of the ground had literally opened up nearby.

"...What is that?" Dipper gestured to both the box and the opening as they approached it.

Stan didn't even answer. He couldn't. His eyes had lain upon the hole's contents and his breath momentarily hitched.

Inside the dusty form of a book sat, looking as though it had remained forgotten for quite some time. Spider webs dangled and crossed all around it, proving to be a weak barrier as he reached down through them and gingerly lifted the new treasure. With a deep breath, he blew off most of the grime, revealing a crimson cover with a golden six-fingered hand ominously placed right at the center, a large number three popping out in the middle.

"Holy Moses..." He whispered, eyes struggling to believe what he was seeing. Carefully, it was opened. The name of the author had been smudged away, but it barely mattered to him as he flipped from page to page, blinking rapidly in an attempt to comprehend this all, _"Of all places, you hid it here...?"_

"Grunkle Stan?"

He looked over to see the twins standing now side by side watching him with wide and curious eyes, "Oh, uh..." Pulling open the front of his vest, he shoved the book inside, "Yeah?"

Mabel grinned, "Is this the buried treasure you were talking about?"

"Uh, I guess it is." He waved his hands, "Good job; you guys 'found' the treasure! ...Now let's go home."

Dipper pouted, crossing his arms over his chest, "But we just got outside. Can't we play a little bit longer?"

That wasn't a terrible idea considering he needed some time to himself to think right now, so..., "Alright, but stay close to the shack! And if ya see a bear; play dead." After he'd gotten serious nods from them, he turned and walked at a pace close to running, trying to get home as fast as possible.

Once inside, he went directly to his room and retrieved the book from his suit, searching through it until he found a complicated diagram on a two page spread. In perfect condition, thank all that was holy. He ran his hand through his hair as a smile twisted his face. Oh, this was great. Perfection. Bringing those kids here had obviously been the right choice. I mean, who knows? They could end up finding something else just as valuable...like a duplicate of this journal only with the number _two_ on the cover instead.

That would be great, but he couldn't get his hopes up. This find had already set him miles ahead of where he'd been.

The ecstatic man made his way back out of his room to find Dipper walking through the front door, twigs sticking out of his hair and small patches of dirt scuffing his chin and elbows. His eyes were a little wider than he'd seen them yet, so he decided that this would be a good time to be a little bit concerned. He was in a better mood than usual, after all.

"Hey, kid, you alright?" A beat passed and Stan noticed something else with a frown, "And where's your sister, anyway?"

His nephew's brows scrunched up thoughtfully, "A bunch of other kids walked up to us and took her away."

...

 _What?!_

He tried to keep his breathing steady as previous excitement melted into cautious terror, "You let her go with them?!" That probably wasn't the most important thing to ask here, so he immediately followed his question with another, "What did they look like? Quick!"

"Uh...they were all wearing red hats that pointed up." Dipper described carefully, "And they had white hair."

Again, _what_. As much as he hated it, he knew exactly who was being talked about here and he didn't like it one bit. Stan pointed, "You. Stay." Then he darted out of the shack, into his golf cart, and with one turn of a key he was off into the woods.

Gosh-darnit, why did his moments of victory have to end like this? Couldn't he have at least enjoyed the feeling for like, twenty minutes? No, he had to focus on the mission at hand; getting his great niece back from those who had taken her.

And the 'those' in question...were Gnomes. Not midgets dressed up like gnomes; no, this was the real deal. Through pure memory Stan was able to navigate his way through the thick forest until he came to a slight drop. He braced himself as the cart staggered down and tried to ignore the fluttering sensation in his stomach; past that he could clearly see a couple of the little overall-wearing schiesters, crowded around something.

It didn't take a genius to guess what.

"Hey, _hey_! _Let go of my niece_!"

The gnomes, in unison, spun around in bewilderment and watched the angry man storm towards them, "Woah, woah, woah!" Possibly the only one of them possessing brown hair stepped forward, hands on its hips, "This is all just a big misunderstanding! We're not hurting her; nope, not at all."

Stan grit his teeth and leaned down, "Then what in the _heck_ are ya doing?"

"Oh, well, that's easy to explain!" It waved a hand at Mabel, who was watching all of this in complete terrified fascination, "Y'see, we lost our old queen due to reasons that we're not even gonna mention, haha, so we need a new one! We're just gonna raise her as our own until she's old enough to marry all one thousand of us and be our new queen for all of eternity! Isn't that right, honey?"

"I wanna go home!" The girl yelled, staring at her great Uncle worriedly.

The gnome smiled wider, "So, see? No biggie! I'm Jeff, by the way; nice to meet you."

"No biggie?" Scowling at the little beasts that dared even try to do this to the girl that had only just been placed under his protection yesterday, Stan stomped his foot hard in an attempt to scare them, "No, you are all going to give me her back, or someone's gonna have to deal with a world of pain!"

Jeff seemed very amused, "You actually think you can stop us? You have no idea what we're capable of. The gnomes are a powerful race! Do not trifle with th- OW! "

But he had finally lost his temper, and with one solid kick, the man had knocked the gnome right out of his path and watched as it slid across the ground, "Anyone else want some?!"

Apparently they did; dropping whatever they had been doing, every gnome that had been in the clearing suddenly rushed him, sharp teeth bared and fingers arched like claws.

This was not how he had wanted to spend his Saturday, but here went nothing. In a flash Stan had pulled on a pair of shiny brass knuckles and proceeded to do his best to defend himself as the small army came at him from all sides.

For being so little, they sure packed a punch. He tried to ignore the stinging pain of their teeth digging into his legs and shoulders as he swung his arms, affectively smashing in every face unfortunate enough to meet his fists. In the corner of his eye he spotted Mabel, who had run to the golf cart. At first he was relieved, believing her to have run to temporary safety, but then he saw her drag out a shovel that had been inside...

...And start to help him fight the gnomes. She was having difficulty holding up the makeshift weapon, but this was definitely not something he'd been expecting at all. It would have made him smile or even brought a proud tear to his eye if they had not been in the middle of such a crisis.

"Aim for the head, sweetie!" He called and saw that she actually took his advice to heart, nailing every pointy-headed jerk she came across as close to the temple as she could. It was so nice to see a kid exhibiting his gusto. It almost pushed more strength into him as he rained blows upon every creature nearby, furious with them for even causing all this mess, but secretly happy that he got to whip out his boxing skills. This certainly wasn't the first time they had saved him, though. He let out a short yelp when a pair of fangs dug into his calf, but he used his other leg to smash it in the stomach, and it stumbled away, spewing what looked like...rainbows?

The gnomes were beginning to drop like flies now, and the odds of their victory were increasing, much to his satisfaction. After clearing the area around him, he helped Mabel bash away all those who had decided to go for the little girl instead, "Never mess with my family again!" And with that, he delivered a final punch to a gnome who had decided it was a good idea to try to land on their heads.

It toppled away, groaning pathetically.

"Take that!" Mabel waved her shovel proudly, watching as those around her scattered in fear at the sight of it, "We did it!"

"Yeah, we did." Stan grinned, picking her up and carrying her back to the cart, "Now let's go home, ok?"

"M'kay."

"And try to avoid following strangers next time." He set her down on the seat next to his and backed the vehicle up, spinning it around so that he could return home. The breath that he felt like he'd been holding for half an hour was finally released and he loosened up his shoulders, relaxing.

Mabel tapped her feet together and glanced up at him, "Grunkle Stan? What were those things?"

"Uh..." A worried expression took over and his eyes darted about thoughtfully.

' _Oh, what the hay. It's not like she's gonna remember forever; she's just a little kid.'_

"Those were gnomes...Yep."

"Oh."

Silence spanned between the two until they pulled up to the shack. Dipper was sitting in the front yard, poking an ant hill with a stick curiously. Stan groaned, "Dipper, I told ya to stay inside!" Not like it mattered now; it was obvious that they were both safe and that made his heart swell with a mix of exhaustion and happiness.

The boy stood and walked towards them, "Sorry!"

He had the oddest feeling that he'd be hearing a lot of those apologies within the next few months, "Ok, let's get you two to bed. It's getting late."

"Ok, but..." Mabel walked back inside with him, "Could we please watch tv for a little bit? Just, just a tiny bit?"

The pleading look on her face and the fact that he thought she deserved some reward for what she'd done today won out, "I don't see why not."

* * *

Later that night Stan sat on his favorite chair in front of the television displaying a colorful, but mostly ignored, cartoon; the twin were curled up on either side of him, fast asleep, heads placed on his lap.

But for the life of him he could not grow tired. His mind was on...other things.

So, as slowly as possible, he stood and edged them close to one another. They looked comfortable enough, so he turned and walked out of the room and back into the main part of the store.

In a swift moment he stepped up to the snack machine on the far side of the room, punched in a few buttons, and stood back as the entire front of the mechanism opened, revealing a stairway behind it. He stepped in, took a second to check behind himself, and then closed it behind himself.

What was inside was his secret.

He was Stanford Pines; runner of a local tourist attraction and known to the town as 'Mr. Mystery' for good reason.


	2. Fishing for Dummies

_Thank you guys so much for all of the positive and informative reviews! Now obviously I will not be doing every single episode, but I'll try to nail down my favorites to re-enact._

 _As always, please read and review! I'd love to hear what you have to say about this one._

* * *

Giving the kids sugar-infested pancakes and syrup for breakfast? Probably not the best idea.

Stanford Pines sipped down his coffee slowly, trying in vain to ignore the mayhem that was ensuing after breakfast. They were nuts; totally out of control, and the many silent mornings that he had enjoyed for years before now he was missing greatly.

He winced as yet another shriek rang through the air. The twins were playing some kind of game that from what he observed was a mix between tag, hide-and-go-seek, and wrestling all while making as much noise as possible. Yes, he had things to learn…and yes, his blood pressure was steadily rising.

But he had asked for this, so he had to take care of it. Be responsible.

"Hey, kids!" Putting on the biggest and fakest smile he possibly could, Stan abruptly sat up from the table, "You guys wanna play a different game?"

This got their attention; they were practically at his feet in seconds.

Mabel shook her fists eagerly, "Like what?"

"Like…" He grabbed their shoulders and spun them around before pulling a black cloth over their eyes and tying each tightly around their heads, creating make-shift blindfolds, "…Let's see what it's like being blind for a day!" _Try running around like a couple of little maniacs now._ He felt like some kind of care-taker genius.

"Um…" Dipper waved his hands out in front of himself before taking a cautious step forward, "Can we take them off now?"

"Uh, not yet." He was immensely enjoying the peace and quiet for a few minutes, because it allowed him to think about what he wanted to do today. Something…non-stressful. Where he could just relax all while keeping an eye on these two and somehow be within an arms length of them in case something went wrong. Something like…

A grin spread up his face as the perfect idea sprung into his mind, "Alright, let's play a new game; get into your Grunkle's car and drive somewhere else!" Placing a hand on each of their backs, he guided them outside, down the stairs and into the 'Stanley mobile'.

Seating himself in the front, he began the bumpy ride. As usual, the road was blurry and he squinted to keep on track and…well, not crash. The other drivers on the road always helped him out with a honk or yell here and there.

"You guys buckled up?" He called over his shoulder, jerking the wheel to avoid a rock that had practically just grown legs and jumped out right in front of the car, "Safety first, ya know!"

Two hasty 'clicks' sounded from behind him.

Dipper cleared his throat, "Grunkle Stan?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you blind too?"

Stan laughed, rolling his eyes, "No, but with these darn cataracts I might as well be."

"What's a cataract?" Mabel asked, voice hitching as the vehicle hit an oversized bump.

"They're…uh, well, they're kinda like…I dunno, just let me focus on the road." He sighed, eyeing the meter on the dash, "Man, am I really that low on fuel? I didn't bring the cash to fuel up again…hold on, kids! We're taking a short cut!" With that, he steered right into a wooden fence which was demolished with ease in a flash of splintering wood.

From there it was a blur of bushes and trees that were just barely avoided. There were a lot of perks to knowing this town and the woods surrounding it like the back of your hand, and this one in particular was being able to avoid twenty bucks of fuel via shortcut. Mind you, he could hear the car once again getting battered, scratched, and groaning as bits of twigs and rocks were lodged into the grill, but it was a small price to pay.

Another 60 degree incline later, and the wheels gratefully touched down on paved ground and skidded to a stop.

"We're here!" Stan led the kids a distance away from the vehicle, taking a moment to admire the view. A simple but large lake stretched in and out of view, a nearby gear lodge heading the many crooked docks that stretched out, "Isn't it a beauty?"

"I don't see anything." Mable mumbled, alerting him to the fact that he had yet to remove their blindfolds.

"Oh, yeah." He jerked the two cloths off of their heads and watched expectantly as they got a good view of their surroundings.

Dipper's eyes widened excitedly, "Are we going swimming?"

"Ha, of course not!" Stan didn't catch the look of disappointment on the twin's faces as he began a cheerful pace towards the docks.

"Then what _are_ we doing?" The brunette stretched his arms out, running to keep up.

It was obvious, but if he really needed to give an explanation, he would, "We're fishing, knuckleheads! Season just opened up." It didn't invoke the reaction he'd been hoping for; they both just suddenly looked very concerned, "What? Ya never gone fishing before?"

"No."

"Well, you're about to, then. It'll be fun! Look-"He reached into his back pocket, "-I even got ya some gear for the occasion." Plopping the two floppy hats onto their heads, it was clear that he'd definitely gotten a much bigger size than he'd intended to, but it would do for now.

"…Who's Dippy?"

"Forward march!" By the looks of things, a good portion of the town had also decided that this would be a good day to be out on the water as well. He breathed in the scent of scummy water, old grill food, and water-logged wood with satisfaction; It was gonna be a good day.

He led his smidge of family over where several boats were docked and stepped over to a decently sized shiny white motorboat. Unlocking the chain, he lifted the kids up and into it.

"This is yours?" Mabel leaned over the side.

Stan smirked, "Yep! Won it in a bet with one of the guys from the lodge. Gotta say that was the best- WHAT THE HECK?!" He had suddenly noticed the scratchy writing scrawled across the side of his precious watercraft, reading, 'S.S. Cool dude.' Now that he was looking harder, a few other ridiculous accessories were decorating it as well, such as random splotches of paint and toys tied to the front, "Oh, for the love of…SOOS!"

The twins winced as he yelled and then watched curiously as an older boy, about fourteen, stepped out from the cabin, "Oh, hi there, Mr. Pines!" He smiled nervously.

The older man tried to take even breaths, "Soos, when I said you could come along to fish with us today, I didn't mean mess with my boat! You know how much I paid for this thing- well…it was free, but it's the principle that's important!" He stomped a foot.

"Sorry, but I wanted it to look cool for our big day out!"

"Ok, maybe I wasn't clear…I want you to start scraping all this stuff off _right now_ before I cancel this whole thing _altogether_!"

The boy seemed to get that. He saluted and ran past to the front of the boat to begin work, "Yes, sir!"

Stan felt exhausted and he hadn't even started the ruddy boat yet, "Let's get this show on the road already…" Using a key he pulled from his jacket, he started the boat in one twist and listened to the motor snarl and bubble in the water, "You guys ready to have the time of your-"He leaned back, frowning, when he realized that the twins weren't where he could see them.

There they were; leaning over the edge of the boat and watching something. Now what? So many interruptions. They could all be out skewering worms and gutting fish by now, "Hey, what's goin' on?"

His jaw locked in instant anger when he spotted a man speaking to his kids. A scrawny one wearing clothes that looked patched together fitting the disheveled look of his graying, slightly overgrown hair. It looked like he hadn't shaved in a few days and his hands were subconsciously tapping against the bristled side of his face.

Oh, not today. He could practically feel his blood pressure steadily rising, "HEY! Whaddya think you're doing?!"

"Oh!" The man jumped and eyed him with caution, "Wh-why, Stanford, I didn't see you there! I was just warning these children about-"

The scratchy Southern accent was doing nothing for his nerves, "Get to the point!"

"DANGER!" All three jerked their heads back in surprise at the sudden change in tone, "YOU'LL BE EATEN ALIVE IF YOU TAKE THIS BOAT INTO THESE HERE WATERS!" He hunched over and placed his fingertips together, staring into the distance with narrowed eyes.

"…By what exactly?" Stan hated to humor this sad display.

"By…the Gobblewonker-"

"Okay, that's it; we're going." He shooed the kids to the other side and grabbed the steering wheel tightly, imagining it to be a certain someone's neck. Boy, what a creep.

Dipper stood on his toes, trying to get a last look, "Who was that?"

He blew out a breath, "Just…a crazy cook called McGucket. He's not important and should be ignored." The boat revved to life and began a steady trek across the lake, a strong gust of wind nearly taking everyone's hats off.

The trip was smooth save for one rough patch where the entire craft seemed to jump out of the water for a moment, but as no one fell out or hit their heads, Stan added it to the growing list of things that 'should be ignored.' Really, he was sure that it was what had kept him sane all these years.

After finding a perfect spot in the shade of the cliffs, the boat finally slowed and puttered until it had completely halted. He pulled the key out and walked onto the deck to see where thing one and two were, "Now then, let' skewer some worms and catch some fish!"

All three were sitting at the front of the boat. Soos had apparently brought some kind of hand-held electronic device that Stan was not at all familiar with, and the twins were pressed into his sides, watching the thing with keen interest as if it somehow outdid all of the fun that they were about to have.

"Hey!" He snapped a finger loudly, getting the teen's attention, "Put that thing away. We came here to fish, not rot our brains."

Mabel folded her arms, "Aw, but I _wanna_ rot my brain!"

Soos appeared encouraged by her comment, but upon seeing the annoyed look being sent his way, he quickly put the device aside. Good. Now they could finally do what they'd come out here to do in the first place.

He wasted no time in snatching up the reels and shoving them into every open hand, "Who here has no idea how to cast?"

Dipper raised his hand, but Mabel's stayed down.

Now that didn't make any sense, "How could you not know, but your sister does?"

The boy rolled his eyes, "Dad has one of those things and she found it and used it until she hooked Mom."

Stan couldn't help but chuckle, "Good enough for me. Soos, you watch Mabel; I'll teach the little guy how to fish." Placing a hand on Dipper's back, he guided him to the other end of the boat where there would be no danger of hooking the other passengers, "Ok, so what ya wanna do is hold down this little doo-dad while you yank the pole back-" He demonstrated, "-then throw it forward while ya let go, and there!" With a perfect 'plunk' the hook landed in the water a few yards away, "It's easy! You wanna try?"

Dipper began to rub his shoulder gently, eying his Great Uncle with scrunched eyebrows, "…I-I'll just watch."

"What?" Was this kid nuts? There had to be something wrong with a child who didn't find fishing the least bit appealing, "Why not?"

"It looks hard. And fish are scary." Was the simple response.

Oy vey. He subconsciously face-palmed himself, "Listen, just because something looks or is hard, doesn't mean that you never give it a shot! You'll miss out on everything. And scary? You wanna see scary? Uh…let's see…" He scanned around until his eye caught something.

Wrapping one arm around his great nephew's waist, he lifted him up to easily see over the side of the boat, "I'll compare 'scary' for ya so this won't seem so bad." He pointed at an island only about a quarter of a mile away wrapped in fog, broken or dead trees sticking out here and there, "'Scary' is that spooky hunk of land over there that's probably never been stepped on by man. In comparison, fishing isn't all that-"

But Dipper had suddenly lurched forward in his arms, eyes shining bright, "Can we go there?"

"Uh…" Had everything he'd said just flown right over his head? So he _wasn't_ afraid of dangerous wildlife-infested islands, but he _was_ afraid of some slimy fish? This did not add up, "No, kid, we're fishing. Remember?"

"But it looks cool and I wanna explore it."

His temper was being tested with this day. He dropped him on his feet and shoved the rod into his small hands, "I said 'no', and I mean it. Now we came here to fish so get that through your thick noggin and start fishing."

Shaking his head, he headed back to check on Soos and Mabel, "Guys, how's it going?"

"GRUNKLE STAN, I CAUGHT A FISH!" Mabel attached herself to his leg and waved her tiny trophy triumphantly in the other hand.

A grin spread up his face. This girl was as golden as they get; there Dipper was arguing with him and here she was doing exactly as he'd told her and being darn good at it, too, "Look at that! He's a big one, too."

"Uh-huh! I called him Tommy."

He snorted, "Good name for a fish, I guess. What about Soos?"

Mabel frowned, "Oh, he didn't catch one yet." She pulled herself up a little to whisper, " _I think the fish hate him_."

Soos shrugged, "As long as I get a nibble once in a while I'm good, dude."

Smirking, Stan gently took the rod from Mabel, "Here, give me that. I'll catch a friend for Timmy."

"It's Tommy." She followed him and observed with fascination as he expertly cast the line practically miles ahead of where hers had landed, "Wow! How'd you do that?"

"Practice, kiddo. You'll be this good…and _maybe_ a little better someday if ya keep on it."

"Really?"

"Believe it." His smile intensified as a quick tug pulled the line, "Looks like we've got company! Soos, Ready the net!"

The heavy boy reached back and armed himself with the green-handled net before rushing over by Stan's side and holding it out over the water, "Ready!"

The elderly man's reeling got more and more vicious as the prized fish was pulled towards them. It broke the surface in a desperate lunge once, revealing itself to be a good foot or more long. This only weakened its chances as that caused instant excitement.

And, over Mabel's ecstatic screams, it was unceremoniously jerked out of the water and hit the deck with a 'splat'.

"Get him in the net, Soos! The net!" Stan herded the flopping fish with his foot, trying to keep it from making an escape.

Unfortunately, in the thrill of the moment, Soos fumbled and the net rolled across the floor, "Sorry!" He chased after it.

All eyes went on the fish, which slid suddenly towards a crack leading to freedom in the hull, "No!" Stan stretched his hands out, but it was too late. Tommy's friend had vanished.

"Awww…" Mabel tossed the friendless fish on the ground in disappointment, "He got away…"

On most days this would have bothered him, but it didn't seem worth it right now. It was just a piece of lunch meat, after all, "It's alright…" Stan puffed, "There'll be more." He yanked a can from his pocket and pried it open, taking a worm out to re-skewer, "Mabel, could you check on your brother? Make sure he hasn't hooked himself or anything."

"Ok." She trotted away, but was back in an instant, "GRUNKLE STAN! DIPPER FELL!"

"WHAT?!" Shoving past her, he slammed into the rail on the other side and stared directly down, only to see nothing in the water. Eyes scanning everywhere for the little brown head of hair, he caught sight of the kid…close to that darned island.

He hadn't fallen out of the boat at all; the brat had jumped out and swam towards the place he'd been told he couldn't go. Wow.

It appeared that he'd gotten a hold of some kind of flotation device, so fear of him drowning was gone, but it was being replaced quickly with the desire to claw his own eyeballs out with frustration. Stan felt beyond done with this day. Why hadn't their parents warned him about that kid's wild behavior? Maybe just said, 'Oh, keep an extra eye on him, please. He tends to wander.' Something, _anything_.

Stan raced the boat towards the island as fast as it would go, knowing that Dipper had probably already reached solid ground. He could only hope that he would stay put when he did.

But no. He wasn't that lucky. Never.

As soon as the hull grinded against the rocks of the shore and he had leaped out, it was clear that he had run off. Great. He spun on his heel, "Do we have a flashlight or something?"

"Uh…" Soos reached down and lifted up a lantern, smiling hopefully, "Is this okay, Mr. Pines?"

"It'll do." He snatched it away and began to walk towards the woods, "You guys stay here. If I don't come back in an hour, my will's in the second floorboard from the base of my bed. Got it?"

Mabel nodded, eyes wide, "Is Dipper gonna be okay?"

"Not if I get my hands on him…" That had sounded harsher than he'd meant it to be, but he was genuinely annoyed. So…it was justified. Maybe.

As he made his way deeper and deeper through the trees and bushes, the fog became heavier and despite his having the lantern, he found himself squinting to see, "Dipper!" This place hadn't appeared so big from a distance, but in all truth every step he took was beginning to feel like he was walking deeper into a pit.

Despite his earlier threat, he really was growing concerned for the little guy. Who knew what kind of wildlife could be lurking around, hungry for a snack, "Kid! Get your tail over here!" He paused, listening for any kind of response, but the most he got was the rustling of overhead branches as squirrels leapt through them.

Maybe he wasn't being loud enough. Clearing his throat, he sucked in as much air as his lungs could hold, and was about to completely break the silence for a mile around, when something else did instead.

His breath came out in a startled rush as a booming roar echoed through his bones and resounded off the surrounding trees, "What the…?" The ground, oddly enough, had begun to quake under his feet, setting off red flags in his head.

Then there was a following sound. A scream, more like. A young boy's panicked scream for help.

All thoughts of running were instantly erased and Stan dodged in that direction, a sick feeling dropping in his gut, "DIPPER!" But he didn't need to go far; something small crashed into his legs a moment later.

"Grunkle Stan!"

Thank all that was holy, it was Dipper and he was very much alive. A little scratched up, but still breathing, "Kid! Why are ya running?" Important questions first.

Dipper panted and stood up, eyes darting nervously over his shoulder, "There's a monster and we need to run, please!" He snatched at his Great Uncle's sleeve and yanked.

"From wha-"One glance sideways gave him the answer. Neck stretching the head above all vegetation, an enormous gray lizard was fixing them with glowing white eyes. It also appeared to be moving steadily in their direction. Not good, "Oh, sh-sugar honey ice tea…" He scooped Dipper up into his arms and ran.

By the increase of vibrations, he could only guess how close it was getting to them as his breathing was starting to come out in ragged gasps. Legs burned, vision was blurry, and the massive kick of adrenaline was less than comfortable. All of the energy that had been left in him today, physically and mentally, was being utterly expended.

Dipper yelped when a large pine crashed down right next to them, but Stan tried hard to ignore it. _'Just a little farther away. You can make it, you can make it…'_ With a last leap, he touched down on the rocks lining the edges of the island and spotted the boat that he never thought he'd be so happy to see, "START THE ENGINE!"

Both Mabel and Soos' eyes were as round as saucers as they took in the situation.

Stan took bounds across the last of the land, clutching the boy to his chest when he tumbled back into the watercraft, "GO, GO, GO!" He craned his neck to see the creature smashing through the forest to follow, mouth agape and fangs dripping with drool.

His eyes widened with horror when he realized it was preparing to jump and land right on top of them. Scrambling wildly, he shoved Soos away from the controls and jammed his foot onto the gas, shooting them forward just as it careened into the rocky shore where they had been moments before.

Upon impact, a sickening metallic crunch blasted over the water and sudden showers of blue and purple sparks flew from its head, sprinkling down from the sky. Something wasn't right here.

He jerked the key out of the ignition and watched the creature slump sideways on the shore, more sparks resulting as it began to roll deeper into the water. Then, with a rather peaceful splash, it had disappeared into the depths and it was all over.

There were so many questions racing through his mind. Too many. It hurt to think. It had all happened so fast.

"Kids…you alright?" A squeeze on his leg alerted him to the fact that Mabel was latched onto it, and Soos was leaning against the railing, stunned. He stepped over to the teen and patted him on the back, "I think we've had enough fishing for one day…how's about you drive us home." It wasn't a request, it was a demand. He honestly didn't trust himself to drive that thing right now.

Soos nodded, saying a muffled, "Okay, Mr. Pines." And stepped to the cabin to begin the weary return.

"Mabel, sweetie, could you let go of my leg?" He pushed his hands under hers and gently pried her off.

She wrapped her arms around herself in a makeshift hug, "Grunkle Stan, what was that?"

He bit his lip, "Uh…an overgrown lizard. Nothing to be worried about." _They made a big mistake putting these kids under his care,_ "Hey, don't look so worried! I got it taken care of!" _He had no clue what he was doing. Send help._

Mabel gave him the smallest of smiles before walking back towards Soos. He set his jaw tighter as he walked across the deck to the front where he found Dipper sitting by himself, knees drawn up to his chin, and a cross between guilt and regret plastered on his face.

The look only grew more intense when he spotted his Great Uncle.

"Well," Stan crouched down in front of the boy, "Whaddya have to say for yourself?"

Dipper bowed his head, "…Sorry."

Gosh, was it ever difficult to be truly upset with him. The elder twisted his legs under himself so that he was sitting next to him and sighed, "Could you tell me why you did it? Needs some explanation."

The boy flinched and glanced at him, "I didn't think you were being fair, and I wanted to look at the island, so I did…"

The kid was stubborn, he'd give him that. The bull-headed trait that most Pines seemed to have had apparently gotten his great nephew at a young age, "And was that a good idea or a bad idea?"

"A bad one. Mabel could've gotten hurt." Some tears were shining at the edges Dipper's eyes and he reached up a small hand to wipe them away, "…Are you mad?"

Yes, he was mad. They could have gotten killed, not just hurt. It could have been disastrous, and it would have been all this kid's fault…but it hadn't. They were sitting here, just fine. Not dead. He placed his hand on Dipper's shoulders and pulled him a little closer, '"Mad' isn't the word for it, kiddo. Just promise me that you'll never do something that stupid again."

"I promise."

"Good. And next time you decide to give me a heart attack, ask first, alright?"

"Okay, Grunkle Stan." Dipper hugged his arm and smiled shyly at him, "I promise."


	3. Parties are the Worst

_True to the show, I update as slowly as possible to make you guys suffer...no, that's not it. Extra long chapter for the amount of time missed! Before I knew it, I had over 4000 words, and I couldn't believe it, so..._

 _Enjoy!_

* * *

Over the last couple of months there had been a definite decrease in the number of customers who didn't need dentures or didn't have graying hair; the 'young people', as Stan liked to call them.

Although it wouldn't be a great loss overall to most, he was a man who cared if even a single cent that could have been spent in his shop was not. Every. Single. One. So this predicament naturally bothered him. The solution?

Ask a professional young person, of course.

"Hey, there!" He slammed his breaks on upon spotting the first proper target and watched as the girl spun around to face him, blazing red pigtails taking a second to catch up.

She was unmistakably a Corduroy; the color of that hair made it obvious. She blinked at him, perplexed, "Um…hello?"

He almost wanted to laugh when he spotted the braces coating her teeth, but he quickly restrained himself. That was one pain in the butt he could understand, "So, what's your name?" Leaning his arm over the side, he tried to appear casual.

Her eyes narrowed a tad, "What do you want?"

"Oh, not much…just wanted to say hello, talk…and maybe have you tell me in exact detail everything you're planning on doing today?" Maybe this was overdoing it in the creep department, even for him. But he'd already started and gold be darned if he'd stop now. How else was he going to learn the interests and habits of these guys?

"I dunno, stuff." The girl watched him with caution.

He groaned, " _What kinda stuff?"_

"Who wants to know?"

"I do!"

"Then pay up." She held one hand out.

Oh, great. She'd gone for one of his weaknesses. Judging by the still wary look on her face someone had told her about Mr. Mystery and the fact that he was a, and he quoted, 'lousy cheapskate.' Maybe he should go for a different angle.

Stan broke into the most pleasant smile he could muster, "Look, I don't want financial trouble; I just wanna know what you young people think is fun nowadays. Is that so hard?"

Her eyes rolled back, processing his question, "Stuff like dancing, parties, eating…fun stuff."

"Great; that's all I wanted to know!" With a roar and screech of tires, the vehicle was out of sight.

* * *

"So, whose birthday is it again?"

Stan cast a look at Soos, who was perched on a ladder ready to put up decorations, "Like I said, less than an hour ago; no ones. I'm throwing a party to try and get the new folks in here," He added another gallon of Pitt soda to the snack table, "We've got everything they could want! It's a party, there's food, gonna be dancing…"

The young employee shrugged his plump shoulders, watching his boss with concern, "But what if no one shows up?"

"Oh, please; this thing will drag those parasites kicking and screaming over here!" If there was one thing he was sure of, it was that his ploys to drain the money out of people's wallets usually worked. Even if some schemes of his past had failed in the end, one dollar extra was a victory in his book.

The teen mumbled something about, _'Maybe that's the reason they don't come around here in the first place…'_ , before continuing his work.

Choosing to ignore that, Stan strode over to the stage area and looked through the equipment that would apparently be blasting tunes later that night. The technology was a little too complex for his taste; wires streamed endlessly over one another and plugged into seemingly random sockets and plugs, and if that wasn't enough they were all the exact same color.

He took a second to thank his lucky stars he had a teen on staff who knew how to work this stuff.

"Oof!" The little ball of energy known as Mabel ran suddenly into his legs.

Oh, right. The kids. He reached down to pat her head, "What's goin' on, kiddo?"

She pulled the hair out of her face and grinned back up at him, "I'm running away from Dipper!"

"…Why?"

"Cause if he catches me he'll spit poison at me and I'll die!" She said cheerfully, inching to hide behind him as she scoped out the room.

Yeesh, was it just him or were games simpler when he was younger? Eh, he had better things to worry about. If he pulled this whole thing off right, it could be the biggest cash winner of the year.

…But then here was the real problem. His eyes wandered down to the girl by his feet. He had been given strict instructions to never leave them by themselves for long, and if this place got as packed as he hoped it would, he'd be way too busy to keep an eye on them the whole time. So what to do?

An ungodly screech that should not have come from a six year old girl erupted beneath him, causing him to flinch lightly and watch with confusion as she made a wild dash towards the snack table, Dipper at her heels.

Being his age allowed him insight into a problem that was waiting to happen, and this was one of those cases. But just as he had started to run, he was forced to watch in dismay as one of them (he wasn't sure who) crashed into the table, sending the row of Pitt sodas tumbling towards the floor.

"NO!" Without hesitation or thought, Stan Pines went down after them, throwing himself on the floor in an attempt to catch the drinks he'd spent a whole little under twenty bucks for.

In a fumble, he'd crashed down, arms out front colliding with the bottles, but catching most of them. He wheezed, watching one that had not been so fortunate roll past him, soda leaking profusely from the top.

Ok…he was WAY too old for this. A pulsing pain starting from his back and making its way slowly to his chest said enough on the matter.

"…Grunkle Stan?"

He looked up into the face of a very concerned Mabel, who was approaching him from behind the table, "I'm…peachy, sweetie."

Soos' thick arms wrapped suddenly around his shoulders and attempted to lift him up, "I've got you, Mr. Pines, don't worry!"

"Ow, OW!" Slapping the boy away, he sat up a bit, attempting not to express his discomfort, "I said I was fine!" Oh, boy was his head spinning. He reached to grab his fez and held it a little closer to himself, now fixing the two little miscreants with a look, "You two outta be more careful, that's my merch draining over there! Every ounce is costing me a few cents at least."

Mabel lowered her gaze to the floor with an appropriately sullen look. Dipper was still behind the table; only his feet showing as he attempted to cover his face and part of his body in the long tablecloth. He moved it slightly to peek at Stan for a moment with one wide eye, but quickly retreated again upon getting no sympathy for his guilt.

Stan curled his lip, before turning to the worried teen behind him, "And you quit grabbing my back; I can get up on my own!"

About as gracefully as a drunk flamingo, the elder grabbed the ground, got half way into a standing position, before his leg slipped out from under him (courtesy of the spilled soda) and he slammed back down all over again.

Eyes squeezed shut, and teeth set together, he lay there for a second in a state of deep, burning frustration. Pride blown, he snarled into the floor at the gawking employee, "What are ya just standing there for? Help me- help me up!"

Once again Soos' hands plus a pair of smaller ones grasped at various parts of his suit and practically yanked him up to his knees. His sleeves were dripping, and the general left side of his body felt sticky and uncomfortable.

He groaned, deciding to breathe deeply. As much as he'd like to go back to his room and beat the stuffings out of his pillow, this party was only an hour or so away from happening and he needed to be on his game, "Okay, you-" He pointed at Soos, "Put up what's left of the decorations, I don't want anything to go to waste. You-"Mabel smiled nervously, "Clean up this mess; paper towels should be under the sink. And _you_ quit acting like that and help your sister." He finished on Dipper, who sprang from his sunken state to do as he was asked.

"D'ya want me to help you get up, Mr. Pines?" Soos winced as Stan set a hand on his back and used that as a propping device to stand on shaking legs.

"Yeah, thanks." He rubbed his arms where they had smashed into the ground, silently hoping they wouldn't bruise up too bad, "Keep an eye on the kiddos for a few minutes, would ya?"

"What for?"

"Gonna see if anyone would consider watching them while the party's going. I'm too busy, and I don't want them pulling a stunt like _that_ during." It was definitely going to be a problem, finding a watcher. Not because there was a lack of people to do the job, but because there was a lack of people who _liked_ him who would do the job.

The answer? Find someone who didn't know him, or didn't know him well.

The young teen he had interrogated earlier that day came instantly to mind, but darn it all he hadn't even asked for her name. Would she show up to his party? Most likely. No one in this town had anything better to do tonight, anyway, and they knew it.

After taking a glance at his disheveled self in the mirror, he decided that since he still had the time it would be smart to get cleaned up; he definitely couldn't wear his signature suit tonight unless he wanted to get stuck to everything he leaned against. With a huff, he attempted to make a dash to quick-change, but found that his arms and legs ached immediately with protest.

And so he started into a slow paced walk, "…Oh, boy. This is gonna be a long night for me, isn't it?"

It was always a good sign when the first few individuals that attended the party simply huddled in a corner and talked quietly under the blasting music.

…That was sarcasm. It was a terrible sign.

Since there was no one to man the ticket booth, Stan had donned a white top from his younger years, brown slacks, a 'stylish' gold chain, and was doing it himself. From where he was seated, he could see the first few guests through the window, and was praying that they were just waiting for more people to arrive before they would liven up.

In two more folded chairs beside him the twins sat, both appearing a little disappointed at not having free reign inside.

He felt a bit guilty every time he glanced at them, as he was the one who had told them to stay out here, but there was a reason for it…it wasn't like he was being cruel.

"You kids wanna know how to tell if this cash is fake or not?" He leaned sideways and held out his newly earned wad of money, hoping this would entertain them. Apparently he knew nothing about kids, because both seemed unimpressed.

At least Mabel was _trying_ to look interested, but Dipper didn't even look up.

"No dice, huh? Well, how about you guys _count_ the money for me? Huh? Wouldn't _that_ be fun," He placed it into Mabel's hands carefully, "Treat them like delicate pieces of china, okay?"

"'Kay." She handed half to Dipper, who instantly started to count them while she bent the ends back and forth, watching the president's faces disfigure with mild interest. Well, at least they weren't staring at him anymore.

He sat up and took another look around, noting that there were only a few more cars pulling in. Man, was this ever going slowly; maybe he should have taken the time to hang fliers around the town, but he'd just been so busy…well, for a person his age, he'd been busy. Perhaps he _could_ have forgone the 'twenty minutes of staring in the mirror at yourself while trying to scratch a hard-to-reach place on your back', but it had become a weird habit by now and it could not be stopped.

"Hey!"

Maybe he'd been thinking a little too deeply about all that; a customer stood before him, hand outstretched and holding that blessed green paper, "Whoops! Haha, let's get you a ticket…" He exchanged the two quickly.

Looking back at the parking lot, his eye caught the same mess of red hair he'd witnessed that morning. Perfect! What was just as good was that it appeared she was hanging behind her small cluster of friends, so she'd be easy to catch.

"Kids, keep an eye on the counter for a sec, would ya?" He stood and dusted himself off, "If a person walks up, ask them for fifteen bucks, then give them a ticket. Got it?"

"Yep!" Dipper nodded, looking a bit more enthusiastic as he stepped over Mabel to take his Great Uncle's seat. She slumped a little, disappointed that she had not gotten to the place of honor first.

"Good, I'll be back in a minute." Upon passing them, he smoothly sidestepped the other kids, spun on his heel, and slid in sync beside the Corduroy, "Remember me?"

The girl's arm twitched for a second, as if – laughably – she was considering defending herself with her small fists, before she caught sight of him, "What do _you_ want again?" She groaned.

"Hey, don't sound like that; _you_ came to _my_ party, so deal with it!" He was personally insulted that he'd only talked to her once and she was already using that special tone on him, "So….what's your name?"

"You already asked me and I didn't tell you, so what makes you think I'd tell you now?" She bared her braced teeth at him, annoyed.

"Okay, you got me; just hear me out, please?" He pleaded, guiding her casually away from her group.

She huffed, going along with him, "What?"

"Listen, pigtails, I gotta couple of kids that need watching, and you look like you're up for the job, so how's about it?" His smile was not pretty, rather more desperate, trying to show her how much he needed this.

She considered him a moment, then held one hand out, "Pay up."

 _Of all the_ – she was going for his weakness again. Things would be so much easier if people just did what he told them to do. But there was no going back; maybe he'd be able to suck any cash she asked of him right back out of her in the future. There was always a hopeful silver lining.

He squeezed his eyes shut in dreaded anticipation, "…How much?"

"Twenty bucks."

"WHAT? I'd nev-" Stan bit his tongue very quickly, pulling out his wallet and snatching a twenty, "Here; Just take it."

The little brat seemed surprised and pleased as she took it and tucked it away in her jeans, "How long am I doing this?"

"Two hours." He hissed shortly, beginning to walk back towards the counter, "Let's get you started before these guys die of boredom." A few people had moved from the table and into the shack since he'd begun his chat with the girl, and he smiled proudly as he approached the twins, "So, how'd you guys do?"

Dipper instantly jerked his head up, looking as though he would rather not be where he was, "Uh…we were doing okay, but…" At this he shot a slightly annoyed look at his sister.

" _I didn't do anything_ …" She mumbled into her sweater, which she was slowly pulling up over her face.

Stan wondered what he was supposed to make of this, "Just tell me what happened, so we can get on with life!"

"She gave free tickets to the teenagers." The young boy blurted.

At this, Mabel exploded from her hiding place in protest, "They asked really nicely!"

Normally, he might have gone into a rage and tracked those miscreants down, but now was not the time. Right now he had to be clear headed, maybe do that in about twenty minutes, "I'll deal with it later, kids. Now, go hang out with pigtails over here." He disinterestedly jabbed a thumb at the teenager.

"What's up?" She waved at the twins, who were equally interested and terrified.

Mabel blinked a few times, ignoring her question and searching Stan instead, "…Why?"

"Uh, well…you guys don't wanna be held up by an old geezer like me tonight, right? " He cringed inwardly as they both instantly nodded, "…Right. So, brace face is gonna keep you guys entertained instead. How's that sound?"

Dipper jumped off the chair and slowly walked to stand before her, eyes growing a little wider when she smiled directly down at him. Stan was expecting this kid especially to go all numb in the tongue and nervous like he had been doing with total strangers, but to his surprise, he slowly reached forward…

…and wrapped his arms firmly around the teen's leg, pushing the entire right side of his body into it.

She glanced down at him, then folded her arms in satisfaction, "Looks like I'm doing _something_ right."

It seemed as though he certainly wouldn't have to worry about Dippy trying to ditch her. Mabel, however, was still staring crossly at him, "Alright, enough of that. See you guys in an hour or two, okay?" She swooped her head sideways, aiming her glare at a patch of dirt instead, "And you – "He pointed at the redhead, "Be good to them…or else."

"Got it." She waved a hand, her composure almost offset for a second as the added weight to her leg caused her to stumble sideways.

No more cars appeared to be pulling up by now. What few people inhabited the town must already be inside, or simply not coming. He took the time to straighten his collar before heading back into the madness of color, sound, and movement.

Shutting the door behind himself, he retrieved a slip of paper from his pant pocket and stuck it directly on the front, reading, '$15 EXIT FEE. NO EXCEPTIONS.' Unless someone was desperate enough to find the one other way of escape, he was gonna make an extra buck or two tonight, if his name wasn't Stanle-…Stanford Pines. Yeah.

"GREAT PARTY!" Someone shrieked over the music, right in his ear.

He gave them his most pleasant smile, despite his hearing aid having freaked out for a moment. The snack table caught his eye and he headed over, figuring after all this hard work he deserved a treat.

Lifting a paper plate and snatching a pair of tongs, the cheap marshmallows instantly caught his eye and he dutifully set to taking as many as could be held. The music kicked up a beat, his heart flurried a bit, and someone small…leaned against his leg, "Mabel!"

"Hello…"

Stan set the plate down and stared exasperatedly at her, "Why aren't you with your brother?"

"Cause I wanna be with you!" The little girl slumped down onto the floor in her desperation to show her Great Uncle how badly she wanted to stay. Two hazel eyes rolled up at him pleadingly.

He had the strangest feeling that even if he did manage to drag her back to the teen, that she'd come right back again and again. And again, "Alright, you got your wish. Whaddya wanna do, then?"

Her face lit up, "Dance!"

Leaning back against the table, he waved a hand at the floor tiredly, "Go ahead."

"With youuu~!"

A small chuckle rose from his chest and he pushed himself forward, "Kid, any dancing skills I've ever had washed away when I hit fifty. But I'll watch you." Uh-oh, she was giving him that face. No, he wasn't going to give in, not even a little.

"I'll teach you?" Mabel reached up to grab his hand, gently smiling as if she was coaxing a turtle out of its old, crusty shell.

Sigh. Who was he kidding? He couldn't fight this little ingrate. She was too…precious? Was that the word? Probably, "Okay, what do you want me to do?" He watched almost flatly as she waved her hands in joy.

"Do what I do!" She proceeded to flail herself about wildly, arms waving as randomly as the times she chose to crouch and jump, sparkly shoes slapping down loudly on the wood, "Look!"

"I'm looking, I'm looking…" How could he break this nicely to her? "Uh, kid, you want me to teach ya how to really dance?"

He had to remind himself that this was a child and not some soft or easily offended adult as she practically screamed, "Yeah!" And watched him like he was some god of instructions that was delivering a rare gift.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Dipper milling through the crowd, but the teen was behind him, so it was fine. No need to bristle or chase. He turned his attention back to the ecstatic little girl, who was on her tip-toes, enjoying the marshmallows from his plate, "Okay, so the first thing you wanna do is…" _Pick a simple move, not some crazy thing,_ "Hold one fist out while keeping your elbow bent, like this-"

Quickly wiping the gook from her face, she copied him, flinging an arm out infront and twisting it.

"Then pull that one back while pushing the other one out." He was pleased to see her doing exactly as instructed; "Good; when you've gotten good at that, you can add in a little foot shuffle, too. Just…" His insides softened, seeing her trying so earnestly to do as he did, "Keep to the beat, kiddo, okay?"

"Okay…" Her eyebrows scrunched in concentration as she observed the master, then repeated. It looked sloppy; really bad. Wasn't on time in the least, and she was continuously almost tripping on her own feet, but to Stan it was close to perfection.

That look she had given him. So…adoring, like he could do nothing wrong. Of course, he could and he had many times, but she had listened to him, and included him entirely in her own little world for a moment. Maybe…he was over thinking this a little. The facts remained, though; he was genuinely touched for the first time in a while. Perhaps it hadn't been such a bad idea to accept the kids into his house this summer, after all.

Perhaps.

Once again he caught the bright red shirt of his great nephew, except it was, strangely enough, coming from the small balcony, a place that would normally take far longer to get to than it seemed he had. Odd,"Mabel, you stay put a second."

Striding near, he craned his head back to get a look, "Hey, Dipper!"

' _SPLASH'_ A cup full of punch slapped him in the face, dripping quickly down his neck. He sputtered a moment, removing his glasses and trying vainly to wipe the lenses with an equally soaked section of his shirt, before looking back up in disbelief, "WHAT WAS THAT ALL ABOUT?!" His throat constricted due to his breathing in some of the liquid and he coughed into his arm.

No answer; only the retreating form of his nephew. That did it.

Mabel was preoccupied with another girl that looked about her age, beach blond hair illuminated in the ultraviolet lights. Good, maybe she'd stay still for a bit while he tried to figure this all out.

Pushing through the literal throng of people, he noticed, with the specific feeling that his patience was about to snap, that the redhead was standing over by the snacks, piling them onto her plate with no Dipper in sight.

He was about to yell, he really was, but his voice died in his throat as his eyes strayed past her.

Soos had stopped what he was doing to investigate a dot of red light, hovering on the wall (By investigate, it was meant that he was repeatedly throwing himself at it.) Dipper was holding the device creating said light…but Dipper was also sneaking past a doorway beside the DJ podium.

Two Dippers. He could not have seen that right.

"Hey, you!" He grabbed the teen's shoulder and she looked at him with an air of disinterest, "What's going on here?"

"Nothing."

He tried to yell over the music, "Where's Dipper?!"

At this her attention snapped to him, and her smile became nervous, "Oh, he's over here. Come on, I'll show you…" Grabbing his sleeve, she began to waltz back towards the doorway.

"Uhh…" Stan followed. Gosh was it ever dark back here; his eyes struggled in the dimming hall, "Let's make this quick; I'm not paying you anything, by the way! Kid better not be hurt with you not looking after him!"

"Oh, don't worry; I'm sure he– GRAB HIM!"

Instantly, multiple hands painfully squeezed his coat, dragging him deeper into the dark, "HEY! WHAT'S GOIN' ON?! WHO IS THAT?" One thought ran through his head for salvation and he screamed, "IF THIS IS ABOUT THE BROKEN PUGS, I'LL GIVE YOU A REFUND, OKAY?!" But it did nothing, causing him to assume that that had nothing to do with this.

He attempted to bite, hit, and chew on whoever was doing this, but he was suddenly thrown, landing with a flash of pain on his back; the sound of a door swinging shut rang through behind him.

"Ohhh…" Before he could even recover, another hand snagged at his cravat, and he instantly took a swing, just missing the target, "Ow! My arm…who's there?!"

"Uh, Mr. Pines? Is that you?"

He wheezed, eyes lighting up with anger, "Pigtails, is that you?! You better have a darned good expla-"

Another, younger voice, "Grunkle Stan!"

"Dipper? Hold on…" This was one of his closets; each structurally lay out almost identically. Reaching under the nearest 'what felt like a 'drawer, he pulled out a matchbox, producing a tiny flame from the first.

Lo and behold, Dipper and the redhead were sitting before him. Their faces were scratched and their clothes a bit torn, "Okay, explanation, now." He couldn't stifle the wave of relief, however, in seeing his great nephew.

The girl spoke up first while Dipper crawled forward to hug Stan's arm, "You won't believe this, but…well…"

He watched her doubt in him and sighed, "I've seen it all, freckle face, so just tell me."

"Your printer, it…uh, makes things come to life. We scanned ourselves and then they kind of took dominion over the household…" She rubbed her shoulder, looking embarrassed, "Then they tossed us in here about half an hour ago."

Without batting a lid, he replied evenly, "Any weaknesses?"

"Water. Dip spit on one of them, and they melted where it hit." Her expression was priceless; as if, after all he'd seen, she'd expected him to laugh at her or something.

It was his turn to laugh now; he leaned back and snickered, patting the top of Dipper's head affectionately, "Oh, man…those creeps don't know what they did…"

"Huh?"

He waited a moment, smiling expectantly at them, "Oh, come on, kiddos! They locked the only guy with keys into a room I use to keep water for the apocalypse." He lit another match and surveyed them, "It's gonna happen soon, you know."

"Let's beat their butts, then!" She pounced onto her feet, "Light the way!"

It took little time to locate and open the jugs of water now that there was a source to see from, and they all armed themselves well, except for Dipper who had to spill out most of his in order to carry it.

With a 'CLICK' the door was opened, and they charged out. To Stan's joy, a whole bunch of duplicates of the teen and his nephew had gathered in the hall to do who knows what, eyes bulging at the sight of the angry folks headed their way, "RUN!" But it was too late; they scrambled in separate directions, pushing and shoving to be first.

Water sprayed everywhere; it was on the floor, ceiling, walls, and especially on the victims, who began to melt into the carpets.

"Group one, done." The elder grinned, "Now let's wipe 'em out."

* * *

"I'm ready to sleep for however long's left of my life…" Stan sprawled on the porch stairs, clothes soaked, but heart victorious. They had won, obviously. A paper army only gave wicked paper cuts, after all.

"See you later, Mr. Pines."

He glanced at the teen, "You wish; sayonara, pigtail-"

"Wendy."

"Huh?" So now she was going to tell him her name, after all that mess. It figured.

"That's my name. Sorry for, uh…all this."

He sighed, reaching into his pockets and pulling out two crumpled twenty bills, "Don't do it ever again."

It was taken from him quickly and she dashed away, back towards home, "Got it!"

He laid himself back down, feeling the presence of the twins behind him…watching his every slow move, "Hey, kids? Think I'm just gonna sleep out here tonight. Is that alright?"

There was an instant squeal from Mabel, which rang sharply in his ears, "We can camp out! I'll get my blankets, then we can tell scary stories, an' eat marshmallows, an' draw on Grunkle Stan's face… " She continued to speak as she ran up the stairs inside.

Nixing the last option, it sounded like a decent idea, "What about you, Dipper? Sound good?"

His smile seemed a little more confident, "Uh-huh, that sounds like fun." Then he turned to help his sister make the preparations for their special night under the stars.

* * *

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